Other-Worldly Bullshit

Since I was young I remember thinking that everyone had mind-reading powers except me. Everyone could read my mind and everyone was in on the plan not to tell me that they could read my mind. There were times when I'd freak out and start crying.
There was this other time that I remember crying because the world was just so big, and I was just a small part of it.
I think somewhere around there would be when the paranoia all started up, when I was young. I hadn't thought too much about it until just recently. I have been trying so desperately to figure out what is wrong with me. My childhood came to mind, and yet until today I never connected the two stories to my more recent problems. Also, when I was younger I remember being petrified of being home alone at night, a feeling that has yet to go away. And still currently I can't walk by windows if it is dark on the other side of the glass without having something close to a panic attack.
Speaking of panic attacks, I had been so excited that they were over. Now I don't know what to do with myself. Last year, at the very end of the year when everything started to come together, better yet, fall apart, I would get three to seven of them a day.
I had one last night.
I had one this morning.
I'm terrified. I don't want to fall back into the hell I was in last year. I'm just starting to make amends with life. Suicide wasn't such a strong thought anymore, though it was still there, but now it's coming back. All of it is coming back.
I'm starting to think that I really need help.
Can't tell my mom, yet. Oh, no, that would be a very bad idea. I will have to wait until I'm 18 to do anything about it. One and a half years today, actually, and I will get the help that I need. In secret, of course. My mom already thinks I'm stupid, verbally telling me on somewhere close to a daily basis, I don't need her knowing that I'm crazy, too.

So Savvy

Something my Chief at the Fire Department mentioned, still rings in my head like some annoying bell. He told me not to think too seriously about it, and I'm not, but it makes like seem just that much more real.
He said that I could go on a call, and never come back.
It's not so much a scary thought, at all. I had thought the exact same thing when first joining the department. Then I thought that if I didn't die trying, then I didn't try hard enough. Now, all I can think about is being burned alive because I fell through a roof. Something about the crackling of the fire burning my flesh haunts me every waking minute.
He told me that people stink when they're burned, that it's a smell you will never forget. I know I plan on joining a bigger, city department when I eventually turn 18 and complete fire one, but that just isn't one of the things I am looking forward to about the job, the smell of burning flesh. I will need to be able to handle it. I will need to be able to handle watching people die, whether they are being burned or jumping from the top floor of a three story building to the harsh ground below, and everything in between. I will need to handle making tough decisions, coming from a call with one less brother or sister.

The two things I love about this job, though, is one, the guys, who immediately accepted me as one of the family.
And two, racing to a call lights and sirens. It's better than any drug.